


AKA love

by buries



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Aftermath, Gen, Missing Scene, Post-Series, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5871658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buries/pseuds/buries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>i never would've let him take you.</i> or the one where "i love you" isn't something jessica wouldn't say to just anyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AKA love

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted [here](http://finnicks.tumblr.com/post/138403792612/fic-love). written for a drabble prompt thing, i chose to write something for my trish using the prompt "you did all this for me?" dedicated to andie. ♥ i've been wanting to write for these two for a while, and finally worked up the courage to do so!
> 
> please be aware this drabble _does_ reference kilgrave's actions throughout the series and what occurred in the final episode. it doesn't outright mention it, but please be aware the conversation does hint at it.
> 
> unbeta'd, all mistakes are mine. ♥

Trish thinks Jessica looks right in her kitchen. Sitting across from her at the counter, Jessica’s dark clothes and thick scarf fit inside of her home. It’s organised and coloured with creams and bright shades, but the dark splotch of Jessica sits nicely to settle it all out.

She knows Jessica won’t agree. She never does.

It’s her second attempt to speak of that night on the dock. She broaches it for herself, not for Jessica — even though Trish knows if she speaks of it, it’s all for Jessica. It’s always been about Jessica. She can agree with Kilgrave on that.

Easily, Jessica smashes her fist against it with a tightly worded, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it, Jess,” Trish says. She looks at her and watches as Jessica shifts her gaze away from her. Biting her lip, curling her fingers into the sleeves of her large jumper, Jessica looks more like the girl she remembers resenting for how untouched she’d been from her mother’s hand.

“Good,” Jessica says. She shifts on her seat and Trish is afraid she’ll make a move for the front door. Her apartment is a labyrinth, but it’s one Jessica can easily superspeed through without much thought. Her ability may be strength, but Trish sometimes thinks it’s her ability to move that’s her secret weapon. “I like doing the whole non-talking thing.”

“I just want to say …” Trish hesitates. Glancing away, she refuses to tell Jessica this without looking into her eye. She knows she won’t catch it, but she stares at her like she can shoot laser beams from her own. “Thank you.”

Watching Jessica’s jaw, she sees her swallow hard. Purposefully looking away from her, Trish can see, even from the angle at which she turns her head, Jessica’s eyes are wet.

“For loving me that much.” She thinks to reach out and touch her, but she keeps her hands flat on the table. Jessica may be made of tough stuff, able to break the sinks in bathrooms with the tap of her fingers, but she’s sometimes just as easy to shatter like a hard punch to glass.

It’s a soft punch now. Trish doesn’t want it to leave a welt in its wake.

Jessica looks at her, eyes still wet. Trish isn’t so sure of what it means, to have Jessica remain in her seat instead of pushing herself to her feet and marching away to hide her face. She’s not like the green guy who easily shows his emotions by shifting into a giant of thick muscles and discoloured skin, but Trish feels like she is right now. Exposing some part of her that had shocked Kilgrave to the core.

“You don’t make it easy,” Jessica says. Trish cracks a smile, believing that’s a line she should be saying. It’s something Jessica said before, back when they’d been younger. Jessica happier, able to smile and laugh. Trish had been beginning to learn how to walk again. She stares at her, and Trish refuses to blink. “I never would’ve let him take you.”

“I know,” Trish says. She doesn’t look away from Jessica, not when her eyes shift to the counter between them. “I never would’ve let him take you, either.”

Jessica looks up at her, and Trish watches as her face crumbles. A tear slips down her cheek. “I love you,” she says. It’s with the same tone she’d used on the docks: unbeatable, invincible. Trish doesn’t respond. She knows Jessica doesn’t want a parroting of it, or her informing her she knows. Trish has always known, long before Jessica had understood her actions herself.

Clearing her throat, Jessica shifts on her stool. “I’m going to find a different code word.” She wipes at her eyes roughly. Her voice pitches upward in a shaky rendition of her old show’s theme. “Like Patsy.” Jessica’s hands barely leave the counter where they’re splayed.

Trish laughs and wipes at her own eye gently. It’s not the name that sees her vision blur and her entire being warm. It’s what Jessica’s telling her, loud and clear, even though it’s hidden under layers of words and a joke. “I’d like that.”


End file.
